


Bump, Switch, Make a Wish

by sultrysweet



Series: Swan Queen Week (Winter 2015) [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Curse, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, Humor, Meet-Cute, Romance, Swan Queen Week, Swan Queen Week 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3231482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrysweet/pseuds/sultrysweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma and Regina have a brief and rushed meeting in the streets of New York. / SQW Jan. 2015: Day 01, Meet Cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bump, Switch, Make a Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Short little note. First, in this fic and a few others for SQW I've played with the tenses so this story isn't told in the past tense like all of my other fics. And second, I don't know anything about New York except for what I see on TV and the specifics of the city I used in this story are things I gathered from Google searches. I apologize if I got anything wrong and hopefully, if you know it's wrong, it doesn't take you out of the story. Enjoy!

Everything is a mess. Her life feels like a mess. The only thing that’s organized about it is her job. She works with numbers and logic and she’s good at what she does. Except maybe today. She’s not even at the office and she should have been about fifteen minutes ago. But Henry just had to get sick the night before and she hasn’t been able to enroll him into a daycare just yet. Plus, her usual sitter is a young lady who had class today so she had to call up a few friends and beg them all one at a time to watch her son. Marian made arrangements and took the day off just to help Regina out and for that she was grateful because if she could have stayed home with her beautiful four year old, she would have done just that. Unfortunately, she has to meet with a client and can’t afford to share a sick day with her son.

Between trying to calm Henry down long enough for her to get dressed, calling three different friends before she found one that could watch Henry and then waiting for Marian to come over because she couldn’t leave Henry alone, she hadn’t been able to brew herself a travel mug of coffee like she usually did every morning. It wasn’t the first time she’d been unable to make her own cup before work so when that happened, she went to a coffee shop between her home and her office, which was on the her side of Central Park in the Upper East Side. Of course, today of all days she was stuck behind a line of people almost as long as the lines at an amusement park. To sum up her morning, today was not her day.

But she finally has her order and is on her way out of the building with a large cup of a dark roast blend pressed to her lips. Her phone jingles in her pocket and she pulls it out to check the message she’s just received. It’s her partner, the one assisting with today’s client, and she’s not happy that Regina’s not there yet. In the text she claims that Regina’s only standing her up to make her look bad in front of the client and Regina just rolls her eyes because that wouldn’t make any sense. If her partner looks bad in front of the clients for her absence then Regina looks worse and they both lose the deal.

She’s about to pocket her phone and blows into the small opening on the lid of her cup. It’s an attempt to cool down her first sip before she takes it, but just as she tips the cup to taste it, however, a man rushes past her before she can take another step.

Regina gasps and curls her body inward as she pulls the cup away from herself to avoid spilling on herself. She sighs with relief when she sees her attempt is a success. Her expression then changes to outrage just as quickly as she’d felt that relief. She turns her head to look at the man that nearly made her morning absolutely impossible and he just continues to run.

“Watch where you’re going,” Regina yells after him then mutters mostly to herself, “asshole.”

She’s about to carry on with her day when she’s hit. It’s a full body collision and she’s knocked harshly onto the ground. The lid of her drink pops off and it spills out onto the city sidewalk when she lands, but she manages to keep the cup in her hand during the scuffle. Before she knows it, the person responsible for this is already getting to their feet while she remains on the ground completely dazed by the suddenness of it all.

There’s a clatter when she falls and it’s echoed in a few seconds by another clatter. Regina’s not sure of the second sound’s origin, but she no longer feels her phone in her hand so she knows without a doubt that her phone is on the ground with her.

Her coffee is all over the pavement and she’s barely had a sip, she’s still late for work, and she feels wet and sticky and part of her body feels hotter than the rest. She considers how that sounds and then thinks about where she feels wet and sticky and hot. It’s her breast and right side. And it’s not a good feeling. The heat gets worse as it seeps through her crisp silk blouse far enough to burn. She hisses and sits up then looks to find the cause, which should have been obvious but she’s still in a bit of shock after the unexpected impact. When she looks at her blouse, she immediately sees a dark stain and it smells like her coffee because it is her coffee. Or what’s left of it anyway.

“Great,” Regina mumbles.

There’s a flash of dark denim in front of her and she whips her head up to look at the second asshole she’s encountered within the last few minutes.

“Hey,” Regina shouts at the long haired blonde that darts off in the direction of the first guy to fly past her. “Who’s going to pay for my dry cleaning?”

The woman looks over her shoulder, several strides away from Regina by then, and shouts back, “Send me the bill!”

Regina huffs and brushes a few stray strands of hair out of her face.

“How am I going to send you the bill when I don’t even know your name,” Regina rhetorically asks, knowing the other woman won’t hear her.

Before she gets up, she watches the other woman disappear behind crowds of people as she runs through crosswalks whether or not the sign on the other side of the street lights up with a walking man instead of a red hand.

With a growl, Regina angrily swipes her phone and shoves it back in her pocket. She huffs again and discards her ruined coffee before she considers her choices. She could go back inside and wait in another line to get a second cup or she could forego the coffee that morning and just get to work. She looks down at her stained blouse and comes up with a third option. She’ll go back home to change and then she’ll finally be able to make her own damn coffee. After the piss-poor start to her day so far and knowing she probably has a much longer day ahead of her, she needs caffeine if she expects to survive it.

* * *

Emma comes home alone like she does most nights. She’s tired and dirty and covered with dried sweat underneath her clothes from her chase after one mark she cornered today and sitting in confined spaces for recon about another mark that should help her pay rent if she can take him in before the end of the month. One of her ankles is tense and it hurts to roll it when she tries to stretch. She’s almost a hundred percent positive the injury was caused when she ran right into that woman during her morning chase, but she’s also just as sure that her ankle got worse over the day because she hasn’t iced it or elevated it and, as usual, she didn’t give herself a break once she had her target in her sight.

She’s home now, though. She’s back at her well-furnished, a little over four thousand dollars a month apartment in the Upper West Side. Unlike most days, however, she has a small box in her hand when she enters the open, spacious apartment. She sets the box down on her counter and flips open the lid before she grabs the single cupcake that’s inside. It’s a tradition of hers, something she does once a year on the night before the special day that’s never really special. Each year she hopes it will be different, that the special day will actually turn out to be special in some way, but it’s never different.

She takes out a blue candle in the shape of a star and sticks it into the top of the cupcake. It’s not quite her birthday and according to the clock on the wall there’s at least two hours until midnight strikes and a new day starts. Her tradition, although it involves her birthday, takes place the night before her actual birthday. She makes a wish on a cupcake in the chance it’ll come true on the real day because she could always use some good luck and a wish come true from the very start of her birthday. She doesn’t want to risk struggling through a crappy day just to make a wish at the end of it that all will magically be fixed before she goes to sleep. Not that a wish at the end of the day before her birthday has ever done her any favors either.

Emma kicks off her shoes, hisses when her ankle protests against the movement, and lights a match then lights the candle. She shakes out the flame on the match then sets it aside before she sinks down onto her crossed arms on the counter.

She sighs as she positions herself at eye level with the cupcake, bent over at the waist with her ass out, and sarcastically, tiredly says to her empty apartment, “Another banner year.”

She closes her eyes, makes her wish, and then blows out the candle. She opens her eyes and starts to stand up fully when an unfamiliar jingle sounds from nearby. She furrows her brow in response and pats her jacket until she finds the pocket she placed her phone in earlier.

When she pulls the phone out for the first time since her collision with that woman she immediately sees it’s not her phone at all.

“Damn.”

Emma checks the caller ID and she recognizes the number, but it’s not in the contact list for whoever’s phone she has. The call is coming from her own cell phone, which means the person on the other line is the owner of the phone she holds in her hand.

“Hello,” she answers the call with a question.

“Finally,” a woman on the other end agitatedly replies. “Why did it take you so long to answer my phone?”

“Uh, I work for a living? I’ve been busy and I didn’t always have the phone on me,” Emma says. “Who the hell is this?”

“The owner of that phone you’re using.”

“I kind of already figured that one out. You got a name?”

“Of course I do. As I’m sure you do too.”

“Right. Well, can I get your name? I’ll find you and return the phone. I’ve got important info in my phone and I’ll need it back as soon as possible. I’m guessing you’ll also want yours back soon.”

“You would be correct.”

Emma sighs.

“Lady, we can keep talking all night about this, but until I get a name—”

“Regina,” the other woman supplies.

“Last name?”

“Not until I get your name, Miss…”

“Swan.”

“Like the bird,” Regina asks with a hint of laughter in her voice.

“Yeah, like the bird. First name’s Emma if you’d prefer to call me that.”

It takes a few more seconds before Regina talks again, “Mills. How is it you plan on finding me?”

“It’s my job to find people, Regina Mills.”

“Well, I don’t know you well enough to let you find me as you say you can. Do you think we can meet somewhere neutral?”

“Right now?”

“No, not right now. It’s ten o’clock at night. Who meets a stranger to exchange phones this late at night?”

“Maybe someone who’s not in their sixties like you, _Grandma_.”

Regina scoffs.

“Or maybe someone who’s _sane_ unlikeyou. Besides, I can’t just up and leave to meet you somewhere. It’s too late to call a sitter and my son just fell asleep so I can’t take him with me.”

“You’ve got a kid?”

“Are you hard of hearing? Yes, I just told you I have a son.”

“Oh. Wow, um, okay. I can meet you tomorrow then. What time is good for you?”

“Eight.”

“In the morning?”

“I must not be speaking English. Lo siento. Ocho de la mañana.”

Emma rolls her eyes.

“Alright, alright. I just want to be clear about the arrangement,” Emma explains. “You don’t need to be a bitch about it.”

“Excuse me,” Regina asks, notably enraged on the end of the call.

“Sorry,” Emma not-so-apologetically says. “Where do you want to meet?”

“How about the coffee shop where this all started? Do you remember it?”

“Yeah, caught a glimpse of it on my way by. It’s on East 62nd?”

“Yes, and between Lexington and 3rd.”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there. Hey, they got any bagels?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“What? If we’re gonna be there anyway—”

Emma hears a sigh through the phone and inwardly chuckles for a moment.

“Okay, fine. I’ll just have to see for myself. Eight in the morning, coffee place on East 62nd. See you tomorrow, Regina,” Emma melodically says her words.

There’s a pause that Emma takes as the moment Regina probably rolls her eyes. By the sound of this woman it seems like something she would do.

“Goodnight, Miss Swan.”

* * *

It’s almost eight a.m. and she’s back on the Upper East Side for the second time in a single week. Usually she only makes about three trips a month to the more expensive side of the park unless she’s tailing one of her bail skippers worth almost three rent payments or more in a single bounty. Otherwise she’s after men, and sometimes women, in Lower Manhattan or Brooklyn. That’s her turf. And anything north or northeast of Harlem is someone else’s problem unless the money is panty soaking good.

Today it’s the Upper East Side though, as rare as that is, and she’s only after someone who happens to have her phone. There’s no bail or percentage fee involved, just a woman who apparently speaks fluent Spanish and has a son.

She’s only three businesses away from Birch Coffee after she drove through morning traffic and was forced to park a block away on Lexington. She knows the traffic is always a bitch, but she didn’t feel like taking the subway and she wasn’t a fan of scrounging around her apartment for cab fare for a cab she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to get, because even if she flags them down they never really stop for her.

She’s finally about to enter the coffee shop when the phone she possesses rings. Fortunately the call is from her own phone and not someone in Regina’s contact list. When she answers the call, however, she suddenly feels less fortunate.

“Hey, I’m just about to walk in,” Emma says in place of a greeting.

“I’m not there,” Regina tells her.

“What? You said to meet you at the—”

“I know what I told you, but now I need to meet you elsewhere.”

“And you couldn’t have called with that information sooner?”

“My son is ill. It’s not like I can schedule a time for him to throw up just so I can follow proper phone etiquette and call to tell you at least half an hour ahead of time that our plans have changed.”

“Whoa. Easy there, Killer,” Emma says as she hesitates outside of Birch. “I’m already over it. Just tell me where I’m _actually_ meeting you this morning.”

“My house.”

Emma laughs. It’s only funny to her it seems because Regina’s not laughing on the other end, but why would Regina laugh? Emma’s the one who suggested she would find and come to Regina yesterday and Regina was the one who wanted to meet at a neutral location. Well, Emma’s at the neutral location of Regina’s choosing and yet Regina’s the one telling her to meet at the brunette’s home now.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll do that. What’s the address,” Emma asks as she walks inside Birch and is immediately met with the smell of fresh coffee.

Regina gives her address while Emma’s on the way to the back of the line and the blonde squints to view the menu from across the room.

“Okay. I’ll be there within the hour,” Emma says before she hangs up and resigns herself to waiting in line.

* * *

Forty minutes pass before Regina hears the doorbell and she sighs with relief. She runs a hand through Henry’s hair, her little prince thankfully asleep in his bed after a rough morning, and she leaves him to a hopefully peaceful slumber. From Henry’s room it takes her a few minutes to reach the door and it seems this Emma Swan who ran into her yesterday is an impatient person. The evidence of that conclusion is in the second ring of the doorbell.

“I’m coming,” Regina calls out as she approaches the foyer.

When she opens the door, Emma blinks once before she leans in and scopes out the interior. She has a carry out cup holder in her hands with three out of four slots for drinks filled with to-go orders from the coffee shop they were supposed to meet at earlier.

“Nice place you got,” the blonde says as she continues to inspect her home. “A large condo on the Upper East Side? Are you the Mayor, a doctor, or did you just get lucky and win the lottery?”

Regina scoffs, displeased with the woman’s attitude.

“I have a well-paying career. That is all you need to know. In fact, you really don’t need to know anything about me. Our only business here is to switch back phones.”

Emma dramatically pouts.

“But I brought coffee,” Emma says as she nudges the carry out cup holder toward her.

Regina looks down at the coffee then looks up at the other woman again. This time when she looks at Emma, the blonde is smiling, and that’s when she takes a good look at the blonde. Blue-green eyes, somewhat athletic build, soft facial features, thin lips and that long, slightly curled hair.

Reluctantly, Regina steps aside and allows Emma access to her home. The blonde casually makes her way inside like they’ve done this several times before and sets the cup holder down on the kitchen counter off to the right.

“So, do you go to that place often,” Emma asks and takes one of the cups.

“I do.”

“I’ve never been there, but I know there’s one somewhere near my apartment. Did you know they have a drink called Emma’s Espresso?”

Emma smirks at her while she brings the cup to her lips and the smirk remains while she takes a sip.

“I did know that,” Regina replies and crosses her arms.

“It’s supposed to be sweet and light.” Emma takes in her appearance and says, “Oh. You want one? I ordered three kinds of coffee because I didn’t know what you liked and I thought I’d try what they have since I finally had a reason to be there.”

“You purposely ordered me something,” Regina asks as she uncrosses her arms and looks at Emma with surprise.

“I did slam into you pretty hard yesterday,” Emma picks up one of the other two cups and reads the order scrawled on the side. “And that made you spill your coffee. Birch Blend?”

When Emma looks to her for an approval of the drink, Regina shakes her head.

“I prefer the Cold Brew,” she tells Emma.

Emma checks the last drink in the holder and reads out, “Double E. Guess that’s the Emma’s Espresso, which makes what I’m holding…”

Emma checks her previously sipped drink and nods before she speaks again.

“Cold Brew.”

Emma holds out her drink to Regina and Regina purses her lips as she steps forward and takes it from her.

“Thank you,” she at least has the decency to be polite with the brash and seemingly bold woman in her condo. “Now may I have my phone?”

“Definitely,” Emma keeps the last cup she checked for a drink name in her hand and pulls Regina’s phone out of her pocket.

Regina retrieves Emma’s cell and the two of them hand off the phones with skilled movements of their hands while they both still hold their coffee in their other hands.

“How’s your kid,” Emma asks as the exchange is almost complete.

“Sleeping, thankfully. He has a slight fever and a stomach bug.”

“Mm. That sucks. Does he need anything? I can just run out to the store and be back here with, like, ginger ale or something?”

Regina breathes out a little laugh.

“Thank you, but he has more than enough here to help him through it.”

Emma shrugs and says, “Alright. Just thought I’d try to help if I could. It’s the least I could do, really, after crashing into you yesterday. Which reminds me, I remember you saying something about someone having to pay for dry cleaning?”

Emma widely smiles and Regina takes a good look at the woman in front of her. She’s a little too casual for Regina’s liking, but she’s nice and brought her coffee and asked about Henry.

“If you really want to make it up to me, you’ll keep your money and save it.”

“For what?”

“Our date.”

Emma’s eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline, but she quickly takes in the almost predatory look on Regina’s face and chuckles.

“Deal. Except, I think I’ll save the money for our second date.”

Regina furrows her brow.

Emma continues to smile at her even while she walks across the room toward Regina. She pulls out a chair at the bar-style counter in the kitchen to Regina’s right and sits down. She pulls out the chair next to her and pats the seat as she stares right at Regina.

“What are you doing,” Regina asks as she considers the situation presented to her.

“The way I see it is, we’ve got coffee, I came all this way to return your phone, and you need to stay close to your sick kid. You want a date with me? Why wait when the time is just right?”

Slowly, a warm smile spreads across Regina’s face. A woman that went out of her way to meet her needs for the switch, puts her son first when Emma could easily leave the condo and never look back, and is almost the exact opposite of her but already she knows it works well for them. Her mind’s already made up so she takes the seat next to Emma and the two of them talk over coffee in Regina’s kitchen.

They talk a bit about Henry, ask about what the other does, shares their favorite colors just to get that small fact out of the way, and both have an unexpectedly great time. Henry even manages to wake and wander into the kitchen, still not feeling well, and Emma watches Regina tend to him, but she never once leaves. Not until Regina suggests they save the rest of their conversation for their next date to avoid any awkward pauses in conversation.

“You got it,” Emma agrees. “When are you free?”

“I’ll call you,” Regina smirks and holds up her phone.

Emma chuckles and before she leaves says, “Oh, and I’ll at least pitch in for the dry cleaning bill. No way am I gonna just stiff you on that. It was a really nice shirt.”

“Yes, it is,” Regina agrees with a pleased expression. “Thank you for noticing.”

“Couldn’t help it,” Emma confesses.

“Charming,” Regina dryly comments.

“That’s me,” Emma says. “Emma ‘Charming’ Swan.”

Regina rolls her eyes, but smiles as she does.

Emma’s at the door, Regina holding it open for her, but she spins toward the brunette and says something else.

“You know what the funny thing about all of this is,” Emma asks.

Regina shakes her head and Emma continues.

“Today’s my birthday.”

Regina’s eyes widen for a moment, surprised by the new information.

“Happy Birthday,” Regina then says.

“Thanks,” Emma smiles. “Every year I have this ritual. I buy myself a cupcake and make a wish when I blow out the candle. Last night, I wished not to be alone on my birthday and when I blew out the candle I got a call from you.”

“And then spent the day with me.”

“And Henry. Sort of. Cute kid, by the way.”

Regina chuckles and says, “Thank you.”

“Anyway, I’m glad my wish finally came true. This definitely wasn’t a bad way to spend my birthday.”

Regina smiles, a small blush blooming on her olive skin.

“I agree.”

“Well, I’ll be expecting your call. Until then, Regina Mills.”

“Until then, Emma Swan.”


End file.
